Maverick:Two housekeepers lied about their whereabouts. Pulling threads there. Could be nothing, could be everything. The chief of security sent me his logs when I asked. Danner—that cop? His name showed up on them.
Atticus:Well, that’s interesting.
Me:Follow that trail.
Danner.That’s definitely something. I roll my shoulders in an attempt to release the tension, but it doesn’t go anywhere.
The math is simple. She didn’t walk away from me—from us. Even if it looks like it. Someone took her from me; and they left Zeus behind, broken and bleeding.
I have to find her. I’ll burn every inch between here and there to get it done. There is no other alternative.
I pocket the phone and head back inside to sit with Zeus until the vet herself comes walking out a little while later.
“Zeus is a strong boy,” she says before I can manage to open my mouth. “You can sit with him if you want while we set the splint on his leg. He’s going to need surgery for the internal bleeding, but the specialist, Dr. Novak, is a few hours out.”
“Let’s go.” Storm is up and by my side as we follow her.
We walk back to the treatment area behind the vet. It’s a controlled mess—IV poles, a crash cart, a whiteboard with names and times.
They’ve settled Zeus into a run with a thick pad, a heated blanket, and a monitor clipped to the stainless frame. A tech threads an IV into his foreleg with a tender skill that makes me forgive the world and all its damage for five seconds. His ears twitch when I step in and kneel.
“Hey,” I say softly. “You did good, Zeus. That was some real king of the gods shit, trying to protect our girl.”
He licks my wrist once through the muzzle, apologetic as if to say he’s sorry he didn’t win the whole fight by himself. His leg is wrapped in a temporary splint from hip to hock, layers of padded cotton and rigid board. The angle is better than it was. The shaking eases when my hand settles on his neck. The monitor beeps along, steadying me.
Storm hovers outside the run, hands in his pockets, pretending to read the whiteboard. He’s not fooling anyone. His hands are shaking in those pockets. “He’s a tough bastard.”
“So’s she,” I say. “Well, not a bastard, but you know what I mean.”
He nods once. “I know. We’ll find her and bring her home to him.”
I slide my fingers under the strap of the muzzle, careful, give Zeus a little scratch where it can’t hurt him too much.
“Can you get someone to go to the hotel and bring me his things?” I ask Storm, eyes still on Zeus. “Phoenix kept a go-bag for him by the door—food, his favorite toy. The blue rope withthe knots. And the leather harness. He’ll need the harness when we get to bring him home.”
“I’ll send the front desk manager on duty,” Storm says. “You’ll want to get him a shirt of hers, too.”
It’s not a question. He already knows the answer. “Yeah.”
He steps away, phone already pressed to his ear, but my attention is on Zeus’s breathing.
At some point, Storm disappears and returns with two bottles of water and a clean T-shirt. He drops both on the chair. I don’t say thanks, but he knows.
When I close my eyes, Phoenix is right there—the tilt of her mouth when she’s fighting not to smile, the way she says my name when she’s mad and it sounds better than a blessing from a saint.
I see her in the service corridor, jaw tight, the exact second she noticed the blind spot and told us about it, the way I nodded and then didn’t fix it fast enough. I see her squatting next to Zeus with a bag of treats, teaching him to “touch” her palm and then “touch” Atticus’s because she wanted him to love all of us in the same measure. I hear her tell me in that even voice,you don’t get to protect me and ignore me at the same time.I hear myself promise I’ll do better. The promise tastes like a lie when I whisper it to the inside of my skull.
“Con.” Storm’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “Atticus needs five minutes.”
I look up. The world blinks into focus. “Put him on.”
He steps aside after handing me his phone. Atticus’s voice is all edges and focus through the speaker. “We’re close. Danner’sbadge pinged three times near the river in the last week. Two of the pings match shifts that he was on for the department. One does not.”
“Where on the river?”
“Working it. I know the look you’re wearing even if I can’t see your face,” he adds, softer. “Keep breathing. We have the dog safe and taken care of. We will get her next.”
“I’m not leaving him.”
